


If it Takes a Thousand Years

by victoriousscarf



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asgard, Asgardian Magic, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Dimension Travel, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Pretty much ignoring most of phase 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:39:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3930259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint wants little more then to forget what happened during New York--before New York--and move on with the remnants of his life. </p><p>Yet he keeps dreaming about Loki, who seems convinced Clint in those dreams is not real. In the meantime, the real Loki has gone missing from Asgard, untraceable and probably kidnapped. Turns out magical mind control is a messy business and Thor is convinced Clint's dreams are the only way to find Loki.</p><p>This was not remotely the sort of forgetting-and-move-on-with-life Clint meant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea knocking around in my head since the Avengers came out back in May 2012 (Which is why phase 2 might as well not exist for this fic, tho I might pull some bits of context out of Thor 2) 
> 
> Really inspired by listening to "I Will Find You" by Clannad and literally every time I heard that song in the past three years I went oh yeah I need to write this story. It's haunted the back of my head for so long I've decided I will literally never ever be happy with the actual writing of the start of it SO. Here we go.
> 
> Also. Pulling some context out of "Fury's Big Week" comic

It wasn’t that Clint wasn’t used to nightmares.

It wasn’t even that Loki become a star attraction in those nightmares.

But even so, they weren’t often like this, the screams in the dark echoing in his head. Burying his face in his hands, Clint crouched in the dark space of the dream, trying to convince himself despite the very linear and non-fuzzy feeling of this place, it was still a dream.

Because the screams sounded a lot like Loki’s voice.

When it was finally quiet, the sound no longer echoing around whatever dark space they were in, he slowly lifted his head and took his hands away.  

Loki stared back at him, hair longer then Clint remembered and tangled around his face, blood around his mouth and most of him was still in shadow. Even knowing it as a dream, Clint’s fingers itched and he wanted to run away.

“Of course,” Loki drawled and if seeing him had been bad, hearing his voice was a thousand times worse. “Of course my conscious would give me you.”

Clint woke up because he really did not want to be in that dream anymore.

-0-

Natasha carefully did not comment on the small cardboard box he was carrying, his bow case almost three times as large and much shinier. She had the grace not to say “that’s it?” which was why Clint loved her so much.

“Sad to be moving?”

“Sad?” he asked, circles under his eyes and exhaustion evident in every line of his body. “Not precisely.”

Nat was still kind enough not to say what was on her mind as she peeled the SHEILD issue car out of the parking lot. She was still allowed to drive one. He was not.

No one at SHIELD blamed him per say, but there were many agents not interested in meeting his eyes either. And when Stark showed up waving his hand and saying that there was some team building thing—no, literally a building there were _floors_ and he was going to be insulted if no one showed up—well no one really protested him moving out of his standard issue quarters.

Even he did not protest too much, because he could already feel the itch starting under his skin, the one that tried to tell him he had been there too long already. Staying in a cubicle of a room with no real windows had been one reason he was so willing to take the longest undercover missions.

“Do you know who else is even going to be there?” Clint asked.

“Bruce, Tony, and me,” she said. “Steve is still insisting on doing his own thing, and well, I…”

“Will be shuffling between DC and here,” Clint finished for her.

“You can shuffle too,” she said, eyes on the road but Clint knew most of her attention was on him, and the cardboard box on his lap that held everything that mattered to him. His tactical gear and uniforms technically still belonged to SHIELD and Stark had assured him he would make him more— _better—_ uniforms anyway. His bow technically did too but no one was willing to bring that up.

He shrugged instead, shoulder jammed against the window and digging into the edge of his seatbelt. “I’m not so sure yet,” he hedged.

“You’re still an agent,” she said and he looked out the window.

It was early enough in the morning that it was still dark and they were driving from DC to New York, so he let the lights off the freeway wash past him. “Maybe,” he allowed after a minute. “Why only the, uh, four of us?” He refused to ask about Thor specifically.

It really was not Thor’s fault, everything that Loki had done but the thought of facing him and knowing he still called Loki his brother made Clint’s stomach twist and he wanted to run, punch something, shoot a target from as far away as he could.

“Steve wants to keep doing his own thing,” Natasha said. “He got his invite as well but…”

“He’d rather stick to DC and do the good thing?” Clint offered and still did not ask.

Luckily for him, Nat really did not need him to ask. “Thor is still in Asgard,” she said. “Last we heard the Bifrost wasn’t working, so he can’t really just get back that easily.”

“But eventually it will work again, right?” Clint said. “And then what? He stops by for tea and scones and when the world really needs him or what?”

“We’re going to be a team,” Natasha said, quietly, and the landscape was still slipping past them.

“Even if it kills us,” Clint said, only half joking.

“Is he going to be a problem for you?” she asked instead, her eyes far too intent on the road.

“No,” Clint said, because he wanted that to be true.

-0-

Clint was not getting out of SHIELD that easily, as Fury had more then succinctly expressed to him, but Fury also decided he needed some time away. So he lived in Stark tower, with Nat when she had the time to be there, and Tony when he had the time to be there, and mostly Bruce.

It lasted for less than a week and it was still the happiest and most fragile he had been in a long time.

“It’s not fun, being on the backseat while someone else is in control,” was one of the first things Bruce had said, and Clint had never adored someone so completely so quickly in a long time. Not since he met Nat, not since he met Phil—and his thoughts still skittered away from that thought like a live wire.

It was not quite the same, but it was a point of reference for both of them, and those simple lines were enough to build something on.

Clint started to think maybe this would be what being an Avenger meant, and maybe that was not so bad.

He and Bruce were alone in the tower for a while, Tony drifting in and out and almost always with pizza, Natasha trying to be there but already pulled back into the world of active duty. “Aren’t you an agent too?” Bruce asked one night, while they were cooking together in the kitchen.

“Yes and no,” Clint said and Bruce did not push it.

It would have been better except Clint kept having dreams about Loki. Almost every night, he would catch at least something—a glimpse, a sound—and sometimes he would end up sitting across from Loki in some shadowy place.

“Aren’t my real nightmares enough?” Clint asked, because covering his ears and screaming had long since proven ineffective.

“Yes,” Loki said dryly. “This is your nightmare.”

“Ex-fucking-cuse you?” Clint said. Loki wrinkled his nose, like he was trying to figure that out. “Right, sorry, you clearly haven’t taken enough from me, my nightmares aren’t even my own. Okay.”

Loki shrugged and Clint was still trying to figure out how to wake himself up from these dreams. He was starting to notice that Loki’s injuries from dream to dream remained consistent. His broken nose was still broken, and new bruises and cuts were layered over the ones from the night before.

Another night, Loki was pacing and Clint sat with his head between his knees, trying to wake himself up.

“I watched you, you know,” Loki said abruptly, and Clint looked up.

“What?”

“Before, through the—it’s all very complicated and not the point,” Loki waved a hand and Clint really, suddenly, wanted to know. “But before I came through the gate, I had linked my mind with Selvig’s. I did not pick you at the drop of a hat. Even before that, when my brother and I first arrived in your world for the first time, in that desert place.”

“Is that supposed to be a comfort?” Clint asked, mentally reshuffling those days with the scientists and their gateway. Selvig, he had noticed, did stare at him an awful lot but he knew very little about the man or his habits.

“A comfort to you?” Loki asked. “Why would it be? The fact that my mind has chosen to present me with your image, night after night, implies some lingering guilt over … something,” and he waved a dismissive hand. “Perhaps talking it over would bring me more restful nights.”

“Oh yeah, you look like you’re having a right old restive time,” Clint said and wanted to ask exactly why Loki had watched him, why that caused him to do anything and all, and because he wanted to he did not.

That morning he woke up and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. “This is why you’re basically on psychiatric leave,” he told the room.

He needed to tell someone.

He had his phone out to call Natasha when there was a flurry of thunder and rain outside the tower. “I thought it called for sun all day,” Bruce said, looking up and they both tensed just before Thor came thundering down on the balcony outside the glass walls.

Standing frozen, Clint watched as Bruce warily went and opened the door. “Thor,” Bruce greeted, Thor shaking out his hair and offering an exhausted smile.

“It is good to see you again,” Thor said and his eyes slid past Bruce to Clint, who was tense and stiff. “Ah,” he said and Clint wanted to run away. “Clinton Barton,” Thor said and he took a step back.

“Loki,” he said instead. “You took your brother back to Asgard right? He’s contained there, or punished, or something, right?”

“That is,” Thor said and his eyes were shadowed. “What I came to talk to you about.”

-0-

Thor waited for the others to arrive before he would explain, and Clint must have paced up and down the whole tower three times by the time they did. Tony arrived last, in the suit because it was faster to fly in he explained.

“So, the Avengers,” he greeted, the suit removed as he walked inside. “Together again. Thor, buddy, good to see you.”

“And you Anthony,” Thor said, and even his smile was exhausted.

“What’s the problem?” Steve asked, hands folded together and elbows on his knees. “It sounded like it took you a lot of power to come down last time.”

“The Bifrost has been more or less restored,” Thor said. “We can once again travel between the realms, though it is not yet completely returned to its former state.” He folded his arms over his chest, taking a breath. “The realms, of course, are in chaos, and there have been wars.”

“Can we help with that?” Steve asked, like he doubted it.

“No,” Thor said, and Tony bristled. “Probably not.”

Natasha sat pressed against Clint’s side, as Clint reminded himself over and over Loki’s actions were not in any way Thor’s responsibility. Thor was not the one who stuck a glowing stick in his heart.

“Loki is missing,” Thor said those were the words Clint had most dreaded hearing.

“You said he would face Asgardian justice,” he said, and he was on his feet before he realized. “You said that’s why you were taking him back—what do you mean he’s _missing_?”

“He was in Asgardian custody,” Thor said. “But since then he has been taken away.”

“Well find him and bring him back and keep him this time!” Clint said, the others looking at him without trying to make it obvious.

“That is what we are trying to do,” Thor said, calm but there were storms behind his eyes.

“How?” Clint demanded.

“No one can track Loki,” Thor said. “We believe,” and he hesitated. “We believe he was taken against his will. At the least by people who wish him some harm.”

“Oh,” Clint leaned back. “ _Good_. So why are you looking for him?”

Thor narrowed his eyes. “We do not know who has him, who has the power to hide him, or why. I would rather find my brother then leave him to some unknown fate.”

“How can we help with that?” Natasha asked, and she was mirroring Steve’s posture, her elbows braced on her knees and hands clasped. Except she was mostly still watching Clint.

Thor hesitated, as if he really doubted exactly what he was about to say. “I consulted with those who know more of magic then myself,” he said finally. “And who have been studying the Tesseract as well as knowing my brother’s own magic. And,” he met Clint’s eyes. “We cannot find my brother, we cannot track him. However, they are convinced of the existence of a bond between himself and you.”

“What?” Clint managed. “What— _bond_?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you on day 10 of this headache. 
> 
> Also. On Clint's deafness: I read a while ago a really interesting meta about how the OP hoped Clint would not be revealed as dead in the MCU because it meant he had been trying to pass as hearing, and that was not the representation they wanted presented. I should really go back and find this post because it was a really interesting counter point to a lot of other meta I find about it. However, I did sort of want to explore the idea that Clint might be trying to pass as hearing and not tell anyone about his hearing aids (sort of like Tony probably does not broadcast what the arc reactor does) because he thinks it's a weakness and he has enough of those. 
> 
> This does not mean I think anyone should be ashamed of being deaf, or that it's a healthy reaction to hearing loss. Simply how the character reacts in this story. (Especially if his hearing loss first came around due to abuse, and then he made it worse himself in a sacrificial move, like in the comics, because though he chose to make it worse, it originally came about because of abuse and that is not a good association to have)
> 
> However if anyone has opinions about this, I would be interested and love to hear them.

“It is difficult to explain,” Thor started.

“Bond is a good place to start,” Clint said, and everyone was staring at him, almost like they had cornered a wild animal and were considering the wisdom of that strategy.

“We do not have the scepter,” Thor said slowly, warily. “So there is no one that can tell me exactly how it’s magic worked. I cannot tell you exactly what I mean, but I can say that seers, indeed Heimdall as well, have indicated that though we cannot find Loki, there is something binding the two of you together.”

“I don’t want to be bound to him,” Clint snarled.

“Can you perhaps explain what such a bond might mean?” Steve asked, looking between Thor and Clint.

“Or rather why it might be with Clint, and not anyone else he controlled?” Tony asked, rubbing at his chest absently, right over the arc reactor.

“There are,” Thor started and paused. “I am uncertain,” he said, looking toward Clint. “There could be many reasons, or none. Perhaps simply luck.”

“I don’t want that luck!” Clint said, stepping back again. “I don’t want a stupid bond. I don’t want to be the one that for whatever reason is singled out.”

“I thought he spent most of his time working with Selvig?” Natasha asked, watching Clint more than Thor.

Clint laughed, shaking his head. “Loki used Selvig but he never liked him—not that he liked any of us but the good scientist seemed to really tick him off. He treated Selvig more like a dog—eager and useful but he would pat him on the head and tell him to keep doing science. If he wanted to talk strategy or—” he stopped because everyone was staring at him. “It was with me,” he finished, quieter. “Fuck, in the dream he said he, of course his conscious would throw up my image.”

“What?” Natasha beat Thor to asking. “What dream?”

Clint hunched his shoulders slightly but stood his ground. He had already planned on telling Natasha but that was slightly different from admitting Loki had been haunting his sleep in front of everyone else, especially Thor. “The last,” he started. “Seven? Eight nights? I’ve been having dreams about Loki. The first night, he said—he acted like I just his dream, and said that of course his brain would bring up my image. Said it might be lingering guilt or some bullshit on his part.”

“Eight nights,” Steve repeated and Natasha looked murderous. Thor’s expression was between floored and thrilled.

“So you do have a link,” he said and Clint wanted to run away. He crossed his arms over his chest instead, holding himself in tightly. “He thinks he is only dreaming you, like you thought you were dreaming him but the both of you were actually using your dreams to meet and talk across a great distance. Have you seen anything of where he is?”

“No,” Clint said, closing even more off and Natasha twitched, like she was going to go to him but remained still. “But he looks beat up,” he added, Thor’s face turning into devastation.  “It’s pretty consistent, his bruises and stuff.”

Thor folding his hands in front of him, and Clint noticed his wrist guards still had Loki’s helmet carved into them. He wanted to throw up, and still wanted to run. “You do have a link with my brother,” he said. “You might be our only hope of finding him.”

“What if I don’t want to find him?” Clint asked. “What if I’m perfectly happy letting him suffer there until he dies?”

“Do you want to dream of him every night until then?” Thor asked and Clint shut his jaw so fast it clicked. “He is reaching out for you,” Thor said. “Probably without realizing it.”

“You’re still not answering why I should help you,” Clint said.

“Because you are my only hope of finding my brother,” Thor said, face vulnerable and Clint had to walk out of the room, before he did something like agree or throw something at Thor to get him to stop looking like that.

“Wait—” Thor started.

“Let him be a while,” he heard Natasha murmur quietly as he reached the stairs and ran up.

-0-

Nat followed her own advice, which was why Bruce was the one to come find him around dinner time. “I figured,” he shifted, still unused to what amounted to small talk with other people. “You wouldn’t want to go down there,” and handed Clint a plate. “Not yet anyway.”

“Is Thor settling in?” Clint asked, hunching over the plate and not looking up.

“I think so,” Bruce said, staring at the wall instead of Clint and Clint could have hugged him. “He likes Earth, I think. He likes us.”

“Good for him,” Clint mumbled.

Bruce sat in silence as Clint shoved pasta into his mouth. “You know,” he said finally. “You don’t have to do this.”

Clint paused, looking up without moving his head.

“I mean,” Bruce said, still looking at the wall. “I get it. I do. You hate Loki, and to be fair you have a really big reason to hate him. So you don’t _have_ to do this. But, he’s Thor’s brother. And Thor, I think, would move all the realms he has access to just to save Loki. Besides,” and he finally met Clint’s eyes. “You kept saying you didn’t mind him being tortured to death. But, you also said you could see each night the new bruises and cuts, right? It’d take a god a long time to die, right? You’d have to watch it the whole time. I know you hate him, but do you hate him enough to watch him die for months in your head?”

Clint sucked in a deep breath.

“Sorry,” Bruce dropped his eyes.

“Thanks though,” Clint grunted. “For at least saying I had a choice.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone would agree,” Bruce shrugged. “No one here is going to force you to do anything.”

“What a change,” Clint said, staring at the pasta because he no longer felt very hungry.

Bruce looked at him, and Clint vaguely thought that if he had been anyone else, and if Bruce had been anyone else, he would have leaned over then and put his hand on Clint’s shoulder and given some empty reassurance. Instead, Bruce remained where he was, close enough so Clint could feel his heat without touching. “I’m not even going to say I hope you make the right choice,” Bruce said. “I just hope you can live with yourself, whatever choice you make.”

“I’m good at that,” Clint said.

“Yeah,” Bruce smiled at him, tentative and quiet. “But maybe make the one that requires the least adjustment to keep going.”

When he left, Clint buried his hands in his hair and focused on breathing deep from his belly.

-0-

That night he sat with his legs crossed, staring at Loki. “Do you know where you are?” he asked, and there were more bruises, more abrasions in the pale skin. Loki looked haggard, his eyes already sinking into his face and Clint clenched his fists.

“No,” he said. “There’s no reason for my own brain to ask me that either, unless I think I’ve missed something.”

“You are really dead set on believing I’m just a figment of your own mind, aren’t you?” Clint ground out and Loki shrugged, even in the dream world looking like it hurt. “Why couldn’t we actually, I don’t know, be talking?”

Loki just arched his brows. “Now my own subconscious is trying to convince me to have hope,” he said. “There is not any way this is anything except my own delusions.”

“Or do you just not want to hope at all?” Clint asked. “Why couldn’t we have formed some sort, of, of bond? You being a god like being, and not perhaps understanding the staff. I mean, you said of course your brain showed you my image, why not…”

Loki waved a hand abruptly. “Stop it. A mortal mind, linked with mine across time and space? Do not be so foolish, _I_ am not so foolish as that.”

“Then why can’t I be myself?” Clint demanded and Loki lunged at him, grabbing him by his shirt front and dragging him up. Clint struggled wildly, not having realized they could touch in the dream space.

“Because you are an illusion,” Loki snarled in his face and Clint froze, tense and desperate to be away. “You are my sick mind trying to convince me that someone could come for me, that someone could find me. You are just an illusion, there is no bond, there is no hope.”

“I am real,” Clint hissed back and Loki shoved him away.

“I am already tired of this game tonight,” he said. “You think my brain would be more inventive, but I suppose I shall have to live with it.”

“Goddamnit,” Clint pushed himself back up, “You arrogant bastard.” Loki tilted his chin back, staring down at him. “You fucking arrogant bastard. It would serve you right if no one came for you, because who have you not fucked over? Who would still be willing to save your sorry ass? You haven’t you turned against yourself? In fact, you think your own mind has turned against you! So why would anyone come for you, right?”

Loki’s mouth was a long compressed line.

“But you’re an idiot!” Clint yelled, his voice raising and echoing oddly in whatever strange realm they were in. “Because by now you should understand your own brother, if nothing else.”

“He,” Loki twitched. “He is not my brother. He’s not.”

“And you have never managed to convince yourself of that,” Clint said and Loki winced. “And you keep forgetting that he would move all the realms for you.”

“I betrayed him, I tried to kill him,” Loki said but his protests were weak.

“Yeah, and that’s gonna stop him?” Clint asked, thinking about the way Thor stared at him, with hope and pain when he told him Loki came to his dreams wounded. “You know better,” and when Loki looked away, Clint knew it was true. “Even when we were underground, even when that staff had me under control, you talked about him, you know. I saw him back in New Mexico. You’re fucking stupid if you think he’s not going to come for you.”

“And he will never be able to find me,” Loki murmured, looking away. “I no longer wish to take part in this conversation.”

“Well too bad for you,” Clint said except the dream place convulsed before he was thrown into wakefulness.

“Fucker,” he swore to the room, pushing the covers off and pacing down the stairs to Tony’s kitchen in his ratty sleep pants and tank, barefoot.

Thor was standing near the floor to ceiling windows, head tilted back.

“Don’t you sleep?” Clint demanded, going for the coffee pot which automatically started running when the door to the floor opened. Clint never loved Tony’s addiction to coffee more then when he realized that was what happened.

“Yes,” Thor said, not turning. “But not like mortals do.”

Clint winced. “Well that could be a problem, you know, traveling with mortals.”

Thor startled, before he turned, looking at Clint in the dim light coming from the windows. “What?”

“I’m not saying I’m doing this for Loki,” Clint snapped. “I’m not even sure I’m doing this for you. In fact I’m pretty sure I’m going to regret this in less than forty eight hours, but you know, that’s longer than usual for me. Usually I regret things in sixty seconds flat.”

Thor was looking at him and his eyes looked fathomless in the light.

“Besides,” Clint continued, burying his nose in his coffee. “He’s so convinced no one is coming for him, that no one would try, or even be able to find him. I really want to prove that fucker wrong.”

He dared to glance up, wondering if Thor would be angry at him for insulting his brother, but instead the corner of Thor’s mouth was twitched up, unbearable fondness on his face. Clint looked away quickly, turning the mug around in his hands.

“Thank you,” Thor said softly and Clint gave him a jerky nod.

“Look, I’m not even sure I like you all that much right now,” he said. “But if you’re right, if I’m the only who can do this… Then I guess I might as well. It’s not like I have a lot else going on for me now anyway.”

“Still,” Thor said. “Thank you.”

-0-

Natasha was the first one down the next morning. “Clint,” she said, appearing at his elbow before he even realized she was awake.

Clint shook his head slightly. “I know, I know, I didn’t tell you, I’m a mess, I fucked up. And before you lay out whatever you came up with while going to sleep, I already agreed.”

Her brows twitched up, expressing her surprise as she slid into the seat across from him. “You already agreed?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, looking away.

“Alright,” she said, and they stared at each other for a moment. “I’m coming with you.”

“Nat,” he started and she raised a hand, making a slashing motion through the air.

“You honestly think I’m going to let you run off to Asgard by yourself?”

“I would be with Thor,” he said and she stared at him. “Who we barely know but seems a nice guy?”

“Looking for his brother,” Natasha said. “If it came down to you or Loki, who do you think he would chose?”

“That’s cruel, Nat,” Clint said quietly. “You have no idea it would ever come down to something like that.”

“Regardless,” she said, eyes never leaving his face. “I am coming with you. Someone needs to watch your back, Barton, because god knows you do a poor job of it yourself.”

Finally, Clint felt himself smile. “To be honest, I have no idea what I would do without you at my back either.”

-0-

Bruce sat with his hands folded when Clint told the others. “I wish I could come with you,” he said, watching Clint. “But, I just…”

“No,” Clint said quickly. “I get it. I understand, it’s fine.”

Tony and Steve looked at each other, as if seizing each other up once again. “Someone has to stay behind to watch out for this place,” Steve said.

“I could,” Tony started and Thor shook his head. “Wait, what?”

“I am most sorry, Anthony,” Thor said. “But you rely on technology. I do not know how the suit or the arc reactor would react to the realms we are to travel through. Otherwise I would be most pleased to have you. But Steve is also right, that you should remain and watch over Earth.”

“Wait,” Clint stared at Thor. “What do you mean, technology might react weirdly?”

Thor looked over at him. “The realms, they are different. There are a thousand unexplained things, but perhaps more importantly, the technology of humans and that of Asgard runs on different power, on different systems for a reason. Our worlds live by different rules.”

Clint could feel his chest getting tight. “Fuck,” he said.

“Are you concerned for your bow?”

“No,” Clint said. “I have trick arrows, sure, but I can handle myself with flint heads if I have to.”

“Then what is your concern?” Thor asked and Natasha was staring at him.

“I have hearing aids,” he said, clenching his hands as he admitted it. “I can’t _hear_ without them.”

Silence fell, Steve and Bruce staring at him in surprise and Natasha looking like she might strike out at the throat of whoever dared speak first.

“May I see them?” Thor asked finally and Clint took a deep breath before he unhooked the small aids, designed not to be seen, from his ears and handed them both over. Natasha pressed her hand against his palm so he would know if she started signing as Thor examined the aids before handing them back.

Clint put the hearing aids back in, jaw set before he forced his head up enough to meet Thor’s gaze again.

“Thank you,” Thor said seriously before turning to Tony. “Perhaps we could combine our knowledge,” he said and Tony’s eyes widened, like he had been given a gift to explore Asgardian technology. “And create aids for Clinton’s hearing that may withstand the journey.”

“Oh,” Tony made a tiny sound that almost seemed involuntary. “Yes. Yes, come down to my lab, is there anything you need to get from Asgard…?” and they were gone, leaving Steve and Bruce across from Clint and Natasha.

“Are you sure about this?” Steve asked, meeting Clint’s eyes.

“No,” he said. “But it hasn’t been forty-eight hours yet either, and I haven’t started regretting it.” Much, he added to himself after the humiliating revelation of his hearing aids.

He could feel Natasha’s finger skim the lines on his palm.

Steve nodded. “We will get anything for you you need,” he said, serious and in command.

“Thank you,” Clint said quietly.

“And you’re going with him?” Steve asked, giving Natasha a tight and unsurprised smile and she gave him a tiny shrug. “I figured. Good luck, both of you.”

“Thanks,” Natasha said as Steve pushed himself to his feet.

“I’m sure I’ll say this again,” Bruce said, hands clasped in his lap. “But good luck.”


	3. Chapter 3

Clint stared at Tony, unsure if he wanted to hug him or punch him in the throat. “They're purple,” he said.

“Yeah,” Tony said, and he was rocking back and forth on his feet, unable to stand still.

“They're _purple_ ,” Clint repeated as if that would make the color any less obvious.

“The gold highlights are all Thor's work,” Tony said. “You know, considering the Asgardians are advanced enough their tech looks like magic I should _not_ have been surprised when their crown prince knows so much. Even if he's never had coffee before or knows what a cell phone is and loves to play angry birds.”

“He,” Clint blinked. “What?”

“Asgardians—”

“No, Angry Birds? Really?”

“And like a game with cupcakes? I don't know. My phone just suddenly has all this weird games with insanely high scores because we stayed up way too late the last couple days making those. They better work. I mean, I know they will because together Thor and I will apparently be unstoppable.”

Clint squinted at him. “Why is that future tense?”

“Because clearly this is a partnership that is only beginning,” Tony said with a grin.

Looking down at the hearing aids in his hand, Clint closed his eyes . “ _Purple_ , Stark.”

“Isn't that your favorite color?” Tony asked.

“Is this payback for not telling you about this?” Clint asked.

Tony blinked, cocking his head to one side. “No. It's just impossible to get that level of tech into the shitty little hearing aids you had before.”

“Those were the best Shield could afford,” Clint started to protest.

“Yeah well, I can build better and Thor is pretty sure you're going to need a shit ton of extra juice to make it through the Bifrost. So. That's what you get. Since they were going to be obvious no matter what we did, I made them your favorite color.”

Clint managed not to wince. “Thank you, Tony,” he mumbled, looking away.

Tony shrugged, obviously passing it off. “No problem. Now go have fun traveling the worlds or something. Take lots of notes, I need new ideas.”

“I'm pretty sure you need new ideas like a hole to the head,” Clint said and Tony grinned, the expression almost easy on his face.

“Probably true. I still want to hear everything when you get back.”

“Yeah,” Clint said, bile rising at the back of his throat. In the last couple days he had gone back and forth on his decision, and if not for the way Thor beamed at him, he probably would have told him that Loki could go fuck himself.

The dreams had been the same and eventually he just put his head in his knees and covered his ears, hoping that would make them pass faster.

“Why do my hearing aids have to work in this weird place?” he muttered. “It would be so much easier if I just didn't have to listen to you.”

“Ah, yes,” Loki said. “Your deafness.”

Clint frowned, lifting his head. “You have something to say about that?” he ground out.

“You were ashamed of it,” Loki said. He reached forward and Clint froze when Loki's cold hand touched his face, long fingers stroking down his cheek.

It was totally different from the time Loki had grabbed him.

He couldn't breath and all he felt was how real Loki's hand was. “The scars you carried from your past. But instead of being proud of them like a warrior, you were ashamed.”

“I wasn't fighting when I got them,” Clint said, arms still around his knees and he felt panic and shame lodge in his throat. “That makes a difference.” He tilted his head, uncertain if it was to get away from Loki's hand or to encourage him to keep it there.

“Does it?” Loki asked, dropping his hand and stepping away. “Why would I dwell on this moment? What am I trying to tell myself?”

Clint rose, getting into Loki's personal space as he stumbled back. “What is it going to take for you to believe I'm real?”

“Nothing,” Loki said. “If you were real,” and the corner of his mouth twisted into a wry smile. “You wouldn't still be here talking to me. Don't think I'm that foolish.”

“I'm going to find you,” Clint said. “Your brother be damned, my own conscious be damned, just to prove you wrong,” and he had gotten in Loki's personal space, Loki peering down at him with a frown. “I'm going to find you, and I don't care what condition you're in, I'm going to make you eat your own words.”

-0-

Clint's first look at Asgard was the floor on the room with the Bifrost. He stumbled through and collapsed to his knees. “Is that normal?” he demanded, as Thor gracefully stepped down beside him, and Natasha swayed, catching herself with a hand on Clint's shoulder.

“I had not taken human's response to the Bifrost into account. I apologize, my friends,” Thor said and if the situation had not been so tenuous between them, Clint got the feeling he might have laughed. As it was, he held a hand out but Clint was too proud to accept it.

“So,” a deep voice said and Clint snapped his eyes up. “You are the mortal, are you?” A dark skinned man in elaborate gold armor stood in front of him and Clint wanted to slink back.

“Yeah,” he said, fussing with his new hearing aids. Thor had insisted he wouldn't even have to take them out every night to clean them, but Clint was still having trouble believing him. “I guess that's me.”

The tall Asgardian considered him with his gold eyes and Clint barely kept himself from squirming or running. “You done judging me yet or should I let that keep going for a while?”

The man arched his brows but before he could say anything, Thor intercut with a warning, “Heimdall.”

“My prince,” Heimdall said, still watching Clint.

“Okay,” Clint said quietly as Thor walked away, Clint and Natasha trailing behind him. “How many people already _know_?”

“Know what?” Thor asked.

“About me and—whatever it is with Loki,” Clint said. “How many already know about that?”

“A few,” Thor said.

“How many is a few?” Natasha demanded. “The entire court, the whole land?”

“Mostly those who aided me in trying to find him,” Thor said and a woman was walking toward them, in a flowing dress with long blonde hair pinned into place. She must have been waiting for them to walk off the Bifrost.

“Where have you been?” she asked. “Your father—”

“Oh no,” Clint said, taking several steps back, still feeling disoriented and raw. “I do not want to deal with fathers right now, that is a step _too far_.”

He realized he had said too much when everyone stared at him.

“So you mean to do it?” the woman asked. “You really mean to go after your brother.”

“I have told father exactly that,” Thor said.

Clint bit the inside of his cheek as the woman stared at him. “I hear that they believe—you might have a connection to my son.”

For a moment Clint couldn't breath. “You're Loki's mother,” he said, flat.

“In all the ways that matter.”

Clint ground his teeth and didn't tell her what Loki had done, didn't demand to know what kind of son she had raised who thought forcing others to kneel to him was power, and who played with minds like they were toys. “That's nice,” he said. “I suppose everyone has to have a mother somewhere, right?”

She considered him and Clint supposed he was just going to have to get used to such scrutiny. “Do you?” she asked. “Have a bond with my son?”

“I dream about him,” Clint said. “So, I guess so.”

Natasha was silent but warm beside him, and Clint could have clung to her and cried in the middle of this strange street.

“I am called Frigga,” she said, holding a hand out, hesitant but firm, like she didn't really understand shaking hands. When Clint took it, her hand was too warm and too strong.

“Clint Barton,” he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. She didn't look like Loki in the direct sense, but there was something about the sharpness of her gaze that remind him of Loki when he thought he'd found what he wanted.

“When you say you dream of him,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. “How do you mean?”

Clint's eyes darted up and down the street, and plenty of people were stopping to stare at them. He wasn't sure if that was because of _them_ as humans standing in the street, or who they stood with. “They just—I dream that we're in the same room, talking. Arguing mostly.”

“Does he seem well?” she asked, a concerned mother in her voice.

“No,” Clint said, too harsh. “He seems like he's having a shit all time, and he thinks I'm a figment of his guilt. Honestly, I don't want you to think I came here out of any affection for him, or some strange sense of duty. Your son tried to enslave my world and along the way he decided controlling my mind was the way to go. I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing this just because I don't want to watch someone die by inches in my head.”

People had stopped and were obviously listening.

Frigga watched him with dark eyes and Clint swallowed what else he wanted to say. “I understand—”

“No, you probably don't,” Clint said, and he wanted more than anything to adjust his hearing aids again but he refused to develop a new tick now. “But that's okay.”

She nodded slightly, barely a dip of her chin, before returning her gaze to Thor. “Your father insists you should not leave on this fool's quest.”

“There are others who might keeps the realms together.”

“His points that we are facing full on civil war are fair,” she said. “He wants to see you. He'll forbid you again.”

The corner of Thor's mouth twitched. “One would think the consequences of what happened last time he forbid me anything would make me more worried about this.”

“Wait a second,” Natasha said. “We're not going to be going on this mad quest with the support of Asgard?”

“Not it's king,” Thor said and he was sweeping away.

Natasha and Clint exchanged a look behind his back. “Disclaimer,” Clint murmured. “Quest may not be properly supported. Please check with your king before embarking to make sure all conditions are met.”

Natasha blinked and stifled a giggle before they turned and followed Thor.

-0-

Odin was Clint's nightmare sitting on a throne with an eyepatch. One of his ravens cawed at Clint the moment he entered the room, which meant if anyone hadn't been staring at him, they were now.

“Nice mythical creature,” Clint said.

“You brought the humans here?” Odin asked.

“He is bonded with Loki,” Thor said and Clint only did not wince through sheer force of will. “We will be able to find him.” Clint looked around the room, out of habit and wished he hadn't. There were Asgardians there, watching them, and the last thing Clint really wanted was to realize exactly how many Asgardian nobles were watching and listening.

He returned his gaze to Odin in time to see him frown toward him and Clint tipped his chin back. “Okay, but let's be clear that bond is a pretty shitty description,” he said. “More of forced one sided bond, but there you go.”

Odin squinted his one eye. “The Tesseract should not have been able to do something like that.”

“Not really my expertise,” Clint said. “Too busy being brainwashed.”

That seemed to get everyone's attention. “If he mindwashed you,” Odin asked. “Why are you here?”

“Do I really have to justify myself to everyone here?” Clint asked. “He,” and he gestured to Thor. “Asked me. And I have a conscious.”

“Do you even know how to find him?” Odin asked.

“Again, that's not my expertise,” Clint said. “I'm just here to use this bond however it can be.”

“I have an idea for that,” a new voice said and everyone seemed surprised by whoever had entered the room. Sighing, Clint swiveled around, arching his brows at the woman who stepped inside, her hair bright blonde and wearing green.

“Why do I feel like I'm not going to like your idea?” Clint asked.

Her smile was too sharp for him to be reassured.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd we're suddenly back. The power a really nice comment can have...
> 
> Also with all the new Thor stuff coming out it was really just a matter of time.

“What are you doing at court, Amora?” Thor asked, having turned abruptly when she entered.

“Am I no longer welcomed here?” she asked, resting a hand on her chest, and beside him, Clint could feel Natasha shift. A hulking form had appeared over her shoulder. “Do you think I would have no sympathy for your quest?”

Clint flickered his eyes from the hulking form to Thor and back, hands twitching for his bow.

“Sympathy you may have,” Thor started.

“There will be no quest,” Odin said, from the throne, standing and everyone went silent to turn and look toward him. “You cannot leave Asgard now Thor—”

“You would leave your son to whatever fate may befall him then?” Thor demanded, throwing a hand out and something twisted on Odin's face. “The boy you raised, the boy you said was worthy to become king.”

“He has proven,” Odin started and Thor took a step forward, resting a foot on the first step up to Odin's throne, leaning forward, and Clint wasn't sure he could hear anyone breathing as they watched.

“He may have proven himself unfit for the throne, and fit for punishment,” Thor said and Clint wanted to protest he'd proven himself _very_ fit for punishment. “But not to be lost to us forever. Not that he deserves to be abandoned by all of us. He is your son and my brother.”

Something passed across Odin's expression.

“Uh,” Clint found himself speaking before he could stop himself. “Look. I get that I'm just a mortal human in a—very strange realm. But sir—your majesty—sir, I came here with Thor because every night I see your, uh, son, in my dreams, and I didn't want to watch him die like that. I don't think you want him to die either. And, well, if nothing else, it would be nice if you'd offer support for my sanity because I _really_ don't want to go mad because of this.”

Clint didn't dare break eye contact with the being that his world used to call a god.

“As king,” Odin said slowly. “I must think beyond one or two souls. It is all the nine realms I am concerned of, and Thor our mightiest warrior. I cannot send him away when he is so needed here.”

“Surely Asgard can stand the loss of one warrior,” Clint said. “Besides, you've met him right? Like, you raised this,” he gestured at Thor, who stood half a foot taller than he did. “Boy. He might just run away in the middle of the night so you know, being supportive will probably get you better results.” He paused. “Sir,” he added.

Odin was still staring at him and Clint's hand was clenching and unclenching at his side again.

“You are very brave,” Odin settled for finally. “You have heart.”

Clint's head snapped back and he felt like something cold was sinking into his chest again. At least Asgard was golden, and there was no strange blue light to catch his eyes and make it worse. “Thank you,” he grit out.

Odin looked beyond him and Clint's shoulders sagged, realizing the king was looking at Amora again. “I will consider these words,” Odin said. “Thor, we should speak.” He rose from his throne again, and walked out of the room.

Thor motioned a woman and three men over, who Clint thought might have been in photographs from New Mexico even if he had never seen them in person. “These are my friends,” Thor said. “Sif, and the Warriors Three. They will watch after the both of you.”

“Right,” Clint said, and he gave up and readjusted his hearing aid again. “No problem.”

Thor gave him another fathomless look before he turned and followed where his father and mother had disappeared moments before.

“Well, this is quite new,” one of the Warriors Three who wore green said. “Humans, in Asgard. Whatever will happen next.”

“Well there were Asgardians on Earth, so this is only fair play,” Clint said, and the one with the large red beard laughed. Clint felt Natasha shift beside him, still taking in as much information as she could. “And we're not even here to try and fuck things up.”

“You say that,” Sif said, but she was smiling. “And yet you scolded Odin in court.”

“Was that scolding?” Clint asked.

“No,” Natasha said. “Your scolding involves a lot more swearing and hand gestures. Higher pitches too.”

“Now that would have been funny,” the first of the Warriors Three to speak said.

“Funny is one way to put it,” the smallest of the three said.

“So,” Clint said, looking between the four of them. “Even with this whole the Warriors Three thing going for you, you have separate names, right?”

“Of course we do!” the one in green said, throwing his hands out. “I am Fandral, this chap here is Volstagg and over there is Hogun.”

“Clint,” Clint said, and pointed to Natasha. “And Natasha. It's, uh, nice to meet you,” and there were still plenty of people in the room, watching them and not and Clint was used to being able to blend into a crowd. His shoulder blades kept itching, waiting for someone to strike from behind.

“And you,” Fandral said, and opened his mouth like he had more to say when Sif cut him off.

“But why are you here? Why did you come to help someone who tried to conquer your world?”

“Not a big fan of him, huh?” Clint asked, because there was something brittle in her voice.

“It does not matter,” she said. “Whether I like him or not. What matters is why you're doing this.”

“Because I want to prove him wrong,” Clint snapped, and instantly regretted it. “And I currently like my sanity where it is.”

“You mentioned that before,” Hogun said. “Being driven mad. What do you mean?”

Clint decided he already didn't like Thor's friends. “Watching someone die by torture in my head doesn't sound appealing. Does it really matter?”

“No,” a new voice said and Sif stiffened as Fandral took a step back, like he was considering finding somewhere else to be. Clint turned, already assuming Amora and her companion were the ones standing behind him. “But I personally would rather like to hear about this bond.”

“I'd rather not discuss it to be honest,” Clint said, and Natasha didn't do anything so obvious as take his hand to offer her support, she simply brushed her fingers down his forearm.

“I only wish to help you,” Amora said, smooth and sweet. “Loki was once my apprentice and I am concerned for him.”

“Concerned for him, or concerned for a new magic you don't understand?” Sif asked.

“Why, my lady Sif, there is no need for such hostility,” Amora said, still smiling. “But you,” and she reached forward, like she might touch Clint's cheek and he stumbled back, almost into Natasha to avoid it. Natasha caught his arm, steadying him. Amora arched a brow but seemed to take that in stride, using the hand to readjust her hair instead. “You could tell me so many things. I've never heard of a bond that stretches across so many realms and that allows you to communicate in dreams. Please, let me see it.”

“See it?” Clint asked, wary.

She raised her hand again. “It will not hurt. I simply wish to know the shape of it, how it feels.”

“I'm not comfortable with—” Clint started but then she had his chin in the palm of her hand, and he froze, because her magic felt nothing like Loki's, nothing like the staff had either, but he could feel it, poking something in his mind, slithering inside—

Just as suddenly as she had touched him, Natasha had grabbed her by the shoulders and tossed her back, breaking the contact completely. She crouched down into a fighting stance, even as Amora's companion took a step forward.

“Don't touch him if he says he doesn't want it,” Natasha said, low and furious and Amora blinked at her, even as Thor's friends tensed, obviously ready to back Natasha up if she needed it.

Instead Amora put a hand on her companion's chest, holding him back. “It's fine,” she said and turned her eyes back to Clint, and somehow it was always the eyes that reminded Clint Asgardians weren't human, especially when their eyes met. “No magic should have been able to do that,” she said.

“Stay out of my head,” Clint ground out.

“Yes,” Amora said after a beat. “You rather don't like having someone else in there, do you? After what he did to you.”

She turned, as if she might go before looking back at Clint. “Those things, on your ears. I can't help but ask, since I've never seen a human wear anything like that before, if it's a new fashion humans have come up with.”

Clint felt his spine stiffen as he sucked in a harsh breath. “Yeah,” he said. “It's real fashionable.”

She looked at him like she knew he lied but then she turned and left so Clint tried to push the niggling fear she saw right through him aside.

“You know, I don't remember seeing anything like those when we were on Earth,” Fandral said.

“Don't,” Clint said, and he felt like his nerves had been strung over a hot fire and poked since he had fallen out of the Bifrost.

The Asgardians looked at each other, before Volstagg clapped a hand on his back, almost knocking him over. “I know what you need,” he said brightly.

“Do you,” Clint deadpanned back once his feet were firm underneath him again.

“Good food!” Volstagg said. “Come, come and we shall feast!”

Clint shot a look at where Thor had gone before he shrugged. “Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

0-0

Several hours later, Thor found them tucked into some side room of the palace, where food and alcohol had been brought for them. Clint felt woozy, and was having trouble keeping his head upright. Natasha was either much smarter than he was and had resisted having her tankard filled as often, or held whatever strange liquor much better than he did.

“My friends,” Thor said brightly and then looked at Clint and Natasha like he was unbearably fond of the humans he had brought to his world with him.

“How'd it go?” Clint asked and swayed for a second before he firmly plopped his chin down on one hand, hoping that would keep the world from spinning.

Thor picked up a tankard from the table and drained the whole thing before he gently set it back down on the table. Everyone else in the room gave him a strange look that Clint didn't understand. “If only everyone had someone such as you to speak for them.”

“Um, I'm terrible at that,” Clint said and Natasha elbowed him in the side, arching a brow at him significantly.

Thor gave him a benevolent smile. “Perhaps,” he said. “The discussion has been opened at least. It may bear fruit in time.”

“I am surprised he is even willing to listen to you,” Sif said.

“Loki is still his son too,” Thor said and Clint's head hurt too much for him to narrow his eyes at Thor. He didn't like thinking about Loki having parents, who allowed this to happen. Thor abruptly looked back at him and Clint startled, almost falling off the stool. “For now though,” Thor said, that fond look back in his gaze. “I will show you to your rooms. We will talk more in the morning.”

“Right,” Clint said and leaned on Natasha the whole way down the large sweeping halls.

When they reached their rooms and Thor finally left, Clint climbed into the large bed, strangely the only one in the room and took out his hearing aids, setting them on the bedside table.

“You don't have to take those out anymore,” Natasha signed to him before she too crawled into the huge bed. There was enough space for Thor to lie lengthwise between them and they had shared much more cramped quarters in the past.

“I know,” he signed back. “I am just used to it.”

She gave him a look before the lights of the room dimmed.

Clint rolled over on his side and hoped he might not dream.

0-0

“I am tired of this already,” Loki said, legs crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Think about how I feel,” Clint said and just laid down on the shadowy floor and closed his eyes.

There was a pause in which Clint could practically hear Loki's confusion. “Are you trying to sleep?”

“I'm exhausted by these dreams,” Clint said. “So sure, I'm trying to sleep in them. Maybe that way I can actually handle the craziness of whatever is going to happen tomorrow.”

There was silence long enough Clint almost thought that was going to be it.

But no matter how long he kept his eyes closed, he wasn't falling asleep and out of the dream space. Finally, with a sigh, he rolled over and opened his eyes, Loki's eyes daring away in a suspicious manner. “Were you watching me try to sleep?”

Loki's shoulders went tight. “I would take whatever peace I might,” he said, offended. Clint raised his eyebrows and pushed himself up so he was sitting across from Loki.

“You find being a creeper peaceful?”

“Watching any other soul at rest is peaceful,” Loki said. “At least here, in this place, it's the closest I might come to it.”

Clint crossed his arms, eyes roving around Loki's face. “There's more cuts,” he said and Loki raised a hand, resting it on his lips, where preparations had appeared. “And whatever they did to your mouth.”

Loki shrugged and dropped his hand. “It's funny, that though my injuries carry over here, none of my bindings do.”

Clint felt his hands twitch. “Yeah, sure, real fascinating.”

Loki leaned his head back, though there was nothing for him to rest it on. “Couldn't you just try and go back to sleep again?”

“You can pull yourself out of these dreams,” Clint said. “I can't.”

“Of course you can't,” Loki murmured. “You aren't real.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “God, I'm going to enjoy making you eat those words so much.”

The corners of Loki's mouth twitched. “Yes, of course, my brain trying to convince me someone is coming. I wish it would stop. I am not a weakling who needs to be pampered by false hope.”

“Honestly,” Clint said, looking upward instead of at Loki, even though he couldn't see anything. “Why are you so convinced your brother isn't coming for you, even if no one else is.”

“You can only hurt someone so much,” Loki said. “Before they give up on you.”

“You really don't understand him at all,” Clint said. He paused, looking down again and rubbing his eyes. “What about Amora?”

A look of pure confusion crossed Loki's face. “Amora? Like she would come for me. Please, even I'm not that stupid.”

“Just a thought,” Clint said and Loki looked away, annoyance twisting his face.

“This is already wearisome,” he said.

“Oh come on,” Clint started but the shadowy place was gone and he was suddenly awake. He scowled at the far wall in the darkness before he sat up. For a moment he let the near total silence surround him before he reached for the hearing aids, hooking them back into his ears.

When he looked over, he found Natasha watching him. “You aren't getting enough sleep,” she said.

“It will just have to do,” Clint said, and climbed out of the bed. She let him go and Clint ended up falling asleep on the window ledge, where he had been sitting and looking out over Asgard in the night.

-0-

When Clint woke up the second time, Natasha was perched on the other side of the wide window, reading a compact book. “What's that?” Clint asked, pushing himself up so his back was against the side of the window.

“A book of Norse mythology,” she said. “I bought it before we came.”

Clint blinked. “Do you think any of them are true?”

“I don't know,” she said. “But they came to our world in the past, and were looked to as gods. It might offer some insight to them.”

“Huh,” Clint settled for and for a while they both sat on the windowsill, Natasha reading and Clint considering Asgard again. “You know,” Clint said after a while and Natasha glanced up. “I would never have imagined that someday life would bring me somewhere like here.”

Natasha cocked her head at him, raising a brow in silent question.

“It's just,” Clint gestured at it. “Look at it. Humans would never have created a city like this. It's beautiful.” He paused and scowled. “And yet Loki still tried to take over our world instead.”

“You're still angry with him.”

“I'm more angry with him _now_ ,” Clint said. “His mother, his brother, this _city_. And it wasn't enough.”

“There's more we probably don't know.”

“Of course there probably is,” Clint said. “But he still left _this_ and came to our world to be some sort of second rate despot over humanity.”

She closed her book and leaned forward. “I'm not telling you to let go,” she said. “Of any of that anger. But remember that you're going to be endangering your own life to try and save his.”

“What does that mean?” Clint asked, watching her.

“The angrier you are, the more dangerous this is going to be,” Natasha said.

“That's true of any mission,” Clint said and Natasha leaned back again, opening her book though she kept watching Clint over the top of it instead of returning to reading.

“This probably isn't going to be like any mission, Clint,” she said and he looked away again, out the window.

“No,” he said, and could see the Bifrost in the distance, gently pulsing its rainbow colors. “No, it's not going to be like any other mission we've ever had.” He wanted to tell her how thankful he was she was there, but instead he kept watching the Bifrost and Asgard as it woke up to the morning and didn't think about the shadows under Loki's eyes.

He wasn't sure even if they left immediately they would have enough time to find him.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Thor: Ragnarok happened and obviously I'm right back here in feeling hell.

Clint stuck his head out into the hallway, Natasha still reading on the windowsill. No one had exactly told them they could not leave their room to wander Asgard, but no one had said it was advisable either. But even after last night's feast he was hungry and no small amount of curious.

He had barely taken a step outside of the room though when he heard voices.

“You cannot seriously be considering going alone,” Sif said and Clint stopped.

“I am not going alone,” Thor said, and their voices were clear, though Clint couldn't see them in the hallway. He figured they must have stopped around the bend of the hallway. “I'm going with my friends. And Amora.”

“Do not be this dense, Thor,” Sif said. “You fought with those humans once. And they will struggle to survive what is coming, let alone aid you.”

“Do not think so little of them, Sif,” Thor said.

“I have no problem with them,” Sif said. “But they are _mortal_. They cannot fight like us and the road will be hard. Besides, that does not account for Amora going with you. You know at least she cannot be trusted?”

“Why do you think Skurge is not coming with us?” Thor asked, almost sounding amused and Clint was still standing obviously in the doorway, listening. “We have discussed this already. You and the others are needed here.”

“ _You_ are needed here,” Sif said.

“Asgard will be safe in your hands,” Thor said. “I am not the only warrior that protects these lands. But I am the only one willing to search for my brother, and he needs me.”

“You're risking a lot for someone who stabbed you in the back,” Sif said.

“He's stabbed me in the front too,” Thor said lightly, as if it didn't pain him at all and Clint realized his hands had curled into fists at his side. “Come now, Sif, even you were once friends.”

“It has been centuries since then,” Sif said.

“Even so,” Thor murmured. “He is my brother.”

“And Amora?” Sif asked, obviously deciding to change tactics. “Do you really believe she is doing this out of the good of her poisoned heart?”

“I have no other ideas for how to find him,” Thor said. “She does.”

“Using that boy,” Sif said and Clint made a face at the wall for being called boy. “Which would only work if he lets her touch him, which right now doesn't seem likely.”

“He agreed to help,” Thor said. “We will figure out how that may be achieved.”

“You have such faith that things will work out,” Sif said and before Clint realized they had started walking they finally came around the corner, with him still obviously standing in the hall.

“They usually seem to,” Thor said before turning his bright smile on Clint who wanted to shrink away. “Ah, Clinton! You are awake!”

“Yeah, good morning to you too,” Clint said with a wince. “Can you please stop calling me that? Clint is good.”

“Ah,” Thor managed. “I will certainly refer to you as you prefer. I did not realize it was a problem.”

“It's cool,” Clint said, and wondered how bad the circles under his eyes were, considering the way Sif and Thor were both considering him. “So. Uh—”

“We were coming to inform you breakfast has already been laid out,” Thor said. “If that is, you are hungry—”

“Food is good,” Clint said quickly and only long practice meant he didn't jump when Natasha appeared at his shoulder totally silent.

“Breakfast, you say?”

The corner of Thor's mouth twitched and he nodded. “Yes, this way, if you would both like.”

“Please, lead the way,” Clint said, trying to ignore Sif's continued gaze, and how obvious it must have been that he was eavesdropping.

-0-

“So, how goes the quest to go on the quest?” Clint asked, after he had eaten his way through a heaping plate of food that Thor had given him.

“It is progressing,” Thor said.

“Like, is there an eta on that progress?” Clint asked. “A week before we can leave, a month?”

“Honestly I'd rather hope it will be within the day,” Thor said and Clint stared at him.

“Okay, that, that's pretty good progress.”

“My brother may not have that much time,” Thor said. “The sooner the better, wouldn't it be?”

“Yeah,” Clint said and was glad he had eaten before asking. “Is there anything we can help with logistically—?”

Thor always looked so pleased it rattled Clint a little. “No, but it is kind of you to ask,” Thor said. “We will not have all the resources I hoped for, but we will have enough to make do.”

“I'm going to have to trust you there,” Clint said, shrugging. “As I have no idea what even passes for currency here.”

The corner of Thor's mouth twitched as Natasha slid onto the bench next to Clint, a second plate of food in her hands. “How's the planning going, boys?”

“Thor thinks we might be leaving by tomorrow,” Clint said and she arched her brows at him.

“That's good isn't it?”

“Yeah, probably,” Clint said, stealing a few grapes off her plate before she could swat his hand away. She gave him a narrow eyed look since he had no plate of food for her to retaliate off later. “Should work on those reflexes.”

“Next time I'll shock you,” she said.

When Clint looked back at Thor he found him considering. “What?”

“The Lady Sif expressed some concern about working with Amora,” Thor said as if he wasn't aware that Clint had been listening to a fair amount of that conversation. “Specifically if you are willing to do so.”

Clint looked down, sideways, and finally back at Thor. “Yesterday, in the throne room, she went straight into my mind. Without asking, without boundaries, like it was nothing, like she had the right to take whatever she wanted of my mind. Which, she _can't_. But, if I know what's coming and why and we have like, guidelines about what is alright—” He stopped abruptly as Thor reached across the table, taking both of his hands in his larger ones. For a second Clint found himself staring at Thor's forearms where they leaned against the table, a small, scattered part of his mind comparing them to his own biceps and realizing all over again Thor could break him in half without even thinking about it. “Um—”

“Thank you,” Thor said and Clint wanted to yank his hands away. “After what my brother did to your mind, you're willing to do something that makes you uncomfortable to save him. You are a stronger, braver man than I think even you realize.”

“Um,” Clint managed again and Thor let him go, leaning back.

“Don't worry,” he said. “I will speak to Amora.”

“Right,” Clint said, feeling frazzled as Natasha handed him a couple more grapes.

-0-

Clint and Natasha found themselves shuffled together with the Warriors Three again for the rest of the day, going on a tour of Asgard while Thor finished whatever preparations he needed to and presumably talked to Amora.

Clint tried not to think about it.

Or how much he wanted to wrap his own hands around Loki's throat the more they saw of Asgard.

He leaned close to Natasha as they walked through a market place. “Honestly,” he said lowly. “What the fuck does Earth have?”

“Novelty?” she replied, eyes scanning a skiff as it flew on patrol overhead. “Presumably a more easily ruled population.”

“Have you even seen their _toys_?” Clint asked, watching several children play with a ball.

“I'm sure Asgard has its drawbacks,” Natasha said, though she looked a little disbelieving herself.

“Tony would literally be on the ground crying,” Clint said and Natasha covered her mouth, stifling a grin. “Like, I don't think he'd be able to move for a week.”

“And then it would be complete chaos as he tried to understand everything at once,” Natasha said and they shared a smile at Tony's expense.

“Too bad he isn't here,” Clint said.

“He does seem to grow on people,” Natasha said after a beat. “Like, an invasive species of plants.” When Clint gave her a look she shrugged. “What? You didn't spend nearly as much time with him.”

“That's because at the time I was supposed to be on vacation,” Clint said.

“Right, until,” and they both stopped talking. Phil had been the one to call Clint off that vacation when a hammer appeared mysteriously in the middle of the desert. “Clint, you know—”

“Nope, I still don't want to talk about it,” Clint said, because he couldn't decide who he hated more when he thought about Phil and the hole under his breastbone when he thought of him—Loki or himself.

“It wasn't your fault,” Natasha said.

“In that I didn't stab him myself?” Clint asked. “Sure, it's not my fault. In that I led the attack, willingly or not? Yeah, it's sorta my fault.”

“Clint,” Natasha stared, as Fandral turned around. Both Clint and Natasha snapped their attention to him, as if nothing had been happening.

“And how are you finding Asgard?” he asked, and despite his foppish demeanor, Clint couldn't quite look him in the eyes either.

“It's certainly, uh, stunning,” Clint said.

“I can't think of the last time a human was here,” Fandral said. “I mean, we hadn't been to Earth in a long time either. It's quite changed over the centuries!”

“Um, yeah,” Clint said. “I'd think a lot has changed. We had some big wars, got an industrial revolution going. Has colonialism, that really sucked for a lot of people,” and Hogun glanced over his shoulder at him. “And now we have smart phones. With cute, adorable games on them that apparently your crown prince is rather fond of.”

“Really?” Natasha asked, looking over at him.

“Apparently Tony's phone randomly manifested Angry Birds with an incredibly high score over night,” Clint said just to watch Natasha laugh. That seemed to capture the attention of all three of their companions, who demanded to know what Angry Birds was and how they might see about beating Thor's high score.

Another few hours were taken up by explanations of Asgard, prodded on by Natasha's questions while Clint mostly just stared as they walked. This was followed by more food and more exploring until finally dusk was almost falling.

“Look,” Clint said, breaking Fandral off mid sentence. “You grew up with Loki, right?”

“Well, more or less,” Fandral said. “I mean, he grew up with Thor and we mostly accepted that.”

Volstagg snorted. “I'm not certain accepted is really the best way to put it.”

“I just don't understand him,” Clint said, Natasha silent beside him.

“Who does?” Fandral asked, brushing it off and Clint's mouth twisted. “He's the god of lies and mischief. He tried to make himself as unknowable as possible.”

“Except for his jealousy of Thor,” Volstagg said.

“And his love of Thor,” Hogun said, quiet but firm.

“He always liked playing tricks,” Fandral said, and sounded almost sad. “Some more violent than others of course, but rarely actually leaving lasting harm. Things changed after Thor was banished and he was king.”

“I'm sorry, he what?” Clint asked.

“Well, Odin went into the Odinsleep,” Fandral said. “And with Thor banished to Earth, Loki had the throne. But then he tried to kill Thor on Earth and I'm not really certain what happened, because neither Thor nor Odin are willing to talk about it and Heimdall is certainly silent on the subject. But the next thing we know Thor is smashing the Bifrost and we were all mourning Loki as dead. Bit of a surprise when he showed back up on Earth.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Clint said. “Thor was the one who broke the Bifrost? I mean, I knew it was broken but he personally like, smashed it?”

“He did it to save another world,” Hogun said and Clint looked at Natasha, who looked as surprised as he did.

“And you thought Loki was dead?”

“Well, he fell off the Bifrost,” Fandral said. “Into the emptiness beneath Asgard. Even most Asgardians struggle to survive falling into space like that.”

“He fell off the Bisfrost,” Clint said blankly. “You should really invest in some safety rails for that.”

“Safety rails?” Volstagg asked as Thor approached through the falling twilight.

“My friends,” he greeted. “We should to dinner.”

“Man, your dedication to food is inspiring,” Clint said. “I mean, as a culture.”

“How have you been enjoying Asgard today?” Thor asked, as they started walking back to the palace.

“You have a beautiful kingdom,” Natasha said and Clint could only nod. “I am honored we were able to see it.”

Thor smiled at her, happy, and through dinner Clint found himself watching Thor, wondering about the Bifrost and Loki falling from it. If Loki had been falling when he finally ended up on Earth—

“Are you ready to leave?” Thor asked, when the food was mostly gone.

“Yeah,” Clint said, rolling his shoulders. “Tomorrow?”

“In the morning,” Thor said. “Amora will meet us there.”

“How'd your talk go?” Clint asked. “About me, I mean.”

“Well,” Thor said, with a firm nod before doubt started to cloud his face. “I hope.”

“I'm sure it will be fine,” Clint said, even if he felt a little queasy. He had after all agreed to help Thor however he might, and that included being uncomfortable. The more he thought about it the more obvious that using the bond would have to involve poking around in his head, no matter how queasy that made him.

“Heimdall has been searching for Loki,” Thor said. “He of course cannot find him, but he thinks he found an echo of Loki, somewhere he might have passed through. He isn't certain how recent that echo is, but he's struggling to see what lies beyond it. It is our best chance for a start.”

“Great,” Clint said, the queasy feeling not having gone anywhere.

Thor looked at him like he knew and clapped him on his shoulder. “Sleep well tonight, Clint,” he said.

“Oh yeah,” Clint managed. “I'm sure I will.”

-0-

“Yeah, fuck,” Clint told the shadowy place when he opened his eyes in it.

“This is exhausting,” Loki murmured.

“Yeah, it really fucking is,” Clint said. He pushed himself up, sitting cross legged and propping one elbow up on his knee. “You still look terrible.”

“Ah, vanity,” Loki sighed. “I don't suspect this is likely to change.”

“What are they even asking you?” Clint asked. “What questions do they want you to answer?”

“Currently, nothing,” Loki said, gesturing to his mouth and the small perforations around it.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Clint asked and Loki only laughed, shaking his head.

“I have no interest in telling myself what I already know,” he said and Clint sighed, chin resting in his hand as he watched Loki.

“Fine, whatever,” he said. “We'll just sit here in total silence then, shall we?”

Loki arched a brow and Clint could barely stand a minute of that silence. “Okay, nevermind.” He paused, eyes darting around Loki's face, his hair even more wild than when he came roaring out of the portal, his skin possibly even more pale and chalky. “Where did you go?”

“What?” Loki asked.

“When you fell,” Clint said and hated that he was asking. “Where did you go when you fell?”

Loki met his eyes with a narrow eyed look of his own. “Do I think that has some bearing on my current condition? Is that why I'm asking myself of that time?”

“I don't know,” Clint said. “ _Could_ it?”

Loki looked away. “The Other threatened my readily enough. If I did not bring them the Tesseract I would be punished. Not even Asgard could keep me safe from their wrath.”

Clint's head jerked back. “What?”

Loki waved a dismissive hand. “But this isn't them. It's someone very different.”

“You invaded Earth on someone else's orders?” Clint asked, waving a hand between them.

“I was bringing them the Tesseract on their orders,” Loki said. “Ruling Earth was my own condition.”

“Oh,” Clint sighed, chin going back to his hand. “And to think I almost had a whole moment of sympathy for you.”

Loki snarled at him, suddenly closer, towering over where Clint sat. “I should have been king,” he said. “I should have been king of Asgard but that was never to be my birthright. Raised to be one thing, consigned to be something else, a trophy in a kingdom full of trophies. If I could not rule Asgard I would rule somewhere else. Humans are weak, and need the leadership.”

“Fuck you,” Clint said, springing to his feet. “Fuck you, you arrogant son of a bitch,” and Loki spat out a bitter laugh. Clint shoved him, making him stumble back a step. “Earth doesn't need despots, we have enough of our own. We don't need a king, we didn't need you.”

Loki grabbed his hands when he went to shove him again and Clint froze, because Loki's hands felt like ice around his. “Yes, you were quite resistant to rule.”

“You should have been content in Asgard,” Clint said. “You might not have been able to rule it, but you should have been _happy there_.”

“How? Always in the shadow of someone else, someone brighter?” Loki asked, and now he shoved Clint back. “How could I be happy there? Why am I suddenly doubting if I could have been?”

“Seems like you could use a lot more doubt in your life,” Clint said. “Some better questioning of your choices.”

“I'm going to die here,” Loki snarled and they both froze. “What is the point of regret _now_? Bringing myself to terms with my fate?”

“You're not going to die,” Clint said. “I'm not going to let you.”

Loki turned away abruptly and Clint shook himself, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why do I keep trying to believe that?” he asked.

“If you think you're going to die,” Clint snapped. “Why are you even fighting still? Why not just lay down and fucking die? If there's no hope what's the point of prolonging it?”

Loki turned back around, staring at him. “I will not just lay down and die.”

“Then have some fucking hope,” Clint snapped and Loki yanked them both out of the dream, Clint waking up violently and cursing loudly to the dark room. He hoped Loki was getting as little sleep as he was, even as Natasha wrapped warm arms around him and dragged him back down into the bed.

“Sleep,” she signed against his back and Clint buried his face in her shoulder.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The show is finally on the road...and hopefully now will be easier to write, ahaha. (Or possibly a lot harder but at least we're finally getting to what I've been dying to write from the start)

Natasha, blessed friend that she was, didn't comment on his middle of the night panic. “I wonder if they have coffee,” she said instead, stretching as she sat on the side of the bed.

“I don't think I've seen any in the last two days,” Clint said. “Tons of alcohol though.” Which he still avoided mostly out of habit. “Should ask Thor. Maybe he has a stash of it hidden somewhere.”

“I suspect he would have already shared it with anyone who had an inclination to try it,” she said wryly. “It's alright, I suppose there isn't going to be any coffee where we're going and I might as well get used to it now. I just hate missions where there's no coffee.”

“Don't we all?” Clint asked, carefully strapping his wrist guards on with far more care than necessary.

Natasha watched him for a moment. “Are you ready?”

“Can anyone ever really be ready to travel to dimensions they might not even be able to imagine?” Clint asked and she smiled, a brief flicker at the corner of her mouth. But it disappeared in a moment.

“You never talk about the dreams,” she said and Clint froze, holding his bow in one hand. Thor had insisted he needed an Asgardian quiver since his own was mechanical, but Clint had insisted on his own bow. “You never say what they're like. All I see is you waking up, and the mood that gets left behind.”

“I don't want to talk about it,” Clint said.

“Obviously,” Natasha said, quirking a brow at him. “Doesn't mean you shouldn't.”

“You remember what Loki's like,” Clint said. “Now imagine being in a small room with him while he's convinced you're not real and you can't get out of the room, only he can leave when he wants. If he was overbearing and arrogant before, it's so much worse when he thinks he's talking to himself. At least when I was around him in person he bothered to talk down to me.”

“Did he?” Natasha asked.

“Did he what?”

“Talk down to you?” she tilted her head as she spoke, considering him.

Clint opened his mouth and slowly shut it again. “Okay, fine. Explained his plans so I could carry them out. Now when I ask him where he is he laughs and doesn't answer because what's the point of saying what he already knows? It's frustrating—and I don't want to talk about it because it's frustrating enough to have to live these dreams once.”

She stared at him another moment before finally nodding. “But if you need to talk about them—”

“I know, Tasha,” Clint said. “I wouldn't go anywhere else.”

-0-

A few short hours found them standing at the Bifrost, Heimdall watching them as they waited for Amora.

“Is she known to be late?” Natasha asked.

Thor hummed something and Heimdall looked away. “She will be here soon,” he said, voice low. “She is simply running late.”

“So uh,” Clint started, almost not wanting to get Heimdall's attention. “Thor thinks you have a place for us to start.”

“It is simply a place,” Heimdall said. “But I cannot see beyond it. There are few places in the realms my sight does not reach.”

“How big, exactly, is this space you cannot see?” Clint asked.

Heimdall looked at him from underneath his golden helm and Clint almost started whistling and walking away just to escape that gaze. Instead he made the mistake he always did, and met the Asgardian's eyes. “I cannot tell,” he said. “As I cannot see it. I cannot even tell you what sort of planet it might be.”

“So these realms,” Natasha said. “Are basically planets?”

“Yes,” Heimdall said.

“And the Bifrost just replaces using space ships?” she asked.

“More or less,” Thor agreed.

“Should we maybe, have a ship of our own?” Natasha asked.

“Asgard has few to spare,” Thor said. “We use the Bifrost for the most part.”

“And if we need to get off the planet?” Clint asked.

“Hopefully there will be a ship for sale,” Thor said, like it wasn't a problem to him at all. Clint blinked at him, wondering what that would feel like. “We may be able to contact Heimdall from there as well. At least where he drops us off.”

Clint looked at Heimdall again before Amora came clattering into the chamber, her hair pushed back behind an emerald circlet instead of the larger crown she had been wearing at court and a bag slung over one shoulder.

“I still cannot believe you will not allow Skurge to come,” she said, the larger Asgardian following close behind her. “He could help, you know.”

“He could help the war here just as well,” Thor said easily. “You do not have to come, Amora.”

“But you do wish me to come,” she said, and Clint noticed Heimdall was doing his best to not quite look at her. Amora was only looking at Thor, though.

“I do,” Thor agreed. “But I would not have you come lightly.”

“Worry not of that,” she said, and turned, speaking quietly to Skurge, who nodded a few times.

Clint shifted, readjusting the bag on his back several times and checking the quiver at his side. The cloak he wore felt strange and heavy on his shoulders. Just when he was ready to ask when they might leave, Odin and Frigga stepped inside, Odin gesturing his son toward him. “Thor. A final moment before you go.”

“Of course, father,” Thor said, stepping over and Clint bit back a sigh, looking at the ceiling. Asgard was beautiful, in a shocking way and he trailed his eyes over the interlaced gold patterns. When he looked down, Heimdall was watching him.

“Um,” Clint started.

“I admit I find it interesting,” Heimdall said, hands crossed over his sword, like he wasn't used to standing any other way. “That you are here.”

“Sure,” Clint said, starting to look away.

“I saw you on Earth,” Heimdall said. “I watched for Loki the long while of his exile. I rarely saw him until he came back to your world.” Clint tensed, Natasha beside him. “He took your mind from you. I watched you a few times after that, when you were locked in small, cold rooms to make sure you weren't a threat anymore. I was surprised when you came with Thor.”

“What is it with you people and watching?” Clint asked, throat dry and Heimdall arched a brow at him. “What's your point anyway?”

“Loki endears himself to very few,” Heimdall said. “We have rarely gotten along and he shamed the duty and my loyalty. And yet he never took from me all he took from you.”

Clint had to break eye contact but Thor was still speaking with Odin, clasping their forearms together. “I don't—”

“You have heart,” Heimdall said, that same phrase that seemed to _mean_ something but that made Clint's blood run cold and his spine stiffen because the first time he had heard that he had lost his own self—

“Shall we go?” Thor said, suddenly beside him and Clint almost tripped but he nodded, walking up with Thor as the Bifrost opened and he still felt shaky and frozen, turning as the portal opened.

“Why do you say that?” he demanded, Heimdall standing on the platform.

“Because it is surprising,” Heimdall said and Thor was holding his elbow as they walked through, holding onto him as they flashed through the rainbow bridge, but Clint still collapsed on the other side of it.

“Are you alright?” Thor asked, kneeling beside him as Clint clutched his chest, convincing himself there was nothing glowing, and he was himself, he was _himself_.

“I just,” he wheezed. “Am not used to the Bifrost. Jesus. How can you just casually travel like that?”

But Natasha hadn't fallen over, and was giving him a concerned look.

“We are used to it, I suppose,” Thor said and helped Clint stand. “Are you truly alright?”

“I'm fine,” Clint said, waving a hand and finally looking around, realizing he was on his second alien world.

Except all that he saw in front of him was snow and ice.

“Love what they've done with the place,” he said.

“This isn't Jotunhiem is it?” Amora asked, looking around and pulling the hood of her own heavy cloak up as snow started falling.

“Too much sun,” Thor said, looking up. “No ice architecture.”

“Would Jotunhiem be a bad thing?” Clint asked, rubbing a hand over his chest and looking at the sky. There was a sun, but it was weak and he could make out the faint light of stars in the sky.

“Yes,” Amora said. “Can we even open the Bifrost there anymore?”

“So long as it does not stay open long,” Thor said, shifting. “The world carries its scars, but it would not wreck more devastation.”

“The Bifrost can be a weapon?” Natasha asked, Clint still staring at the strange sky.

“If left open, it can build its power,” Thor said. “That overload is always devastating. Loki tried to destroy Jotunhiem that way and they do not look kindly upon us now.”

“Wait,” Clint said, snapping his eyes back down. “Loki tried to destroy _what_?”

“It was before he came to your Earth,” Thor said, shifting.

“He tried to destroy a planet?” Clint asked. “A whole fucking planet?”

“He tried to rule yours, I'm not certain why you act so surprised,” Amora said.

“Look, it's just—ruling over subjects is slightly different from just wiping a whole planet out,” Clint said. “He didn't want to destroy humanity, he just wanted us subjugated and loyal.” He paused, the other three staring at him. “Which I'm not defending, because that's like destroying our soul, okay? I'm just saying, it's a different level of violence.”

“He was mad at the time,” Thor said stiffly, and turned to walk abruptly away from where the Bifrost deposited them.

“Um,” Clint said, watching his back. “Do you know where you're going?”

-0-

It turned out, no one had any idea where they were going. “Do we know anything at all about this world?” Amora asked later in the afternoon, after they had been trudging through the snow for hours.

“It is on the edge of known space,” Thor said. “Heimdall could barely make it out.”

“Are there even people to be found here?” she asked, stopping in her tracks and crossing her arms.

Thor's mouth thinned and he looked at the sky. “I can search,” he said. “But—”

“Oh, I can protect the pathetic humans,” Amora said, waving a hand at him. “You'll have to trust me at some point on this journey, it might as well be now.”

Thor's mouth thinned further, and they stared at each other for a long time before he nodded. “You should make camp for tonight here,” he said before twirling his hammer and taking off for the sky.

Natasha and Clint exchanged a glance as Amora waved her hands, their tents unfurling from their bags and setting themselves up in the snow.

“That's a neat party trick,” Natasha said, as Amora lit a fire in the middle of the three tents with another wave of her hand and a flash of green light.

“Isn't it just?” Amora asked, almost with a smirk as she primly sat herself down by the fire.

Another quick look passed between Clint and Natasha as they sat on the opposite side from her. The sky started to darken, the stars becoming more obviously as they waited for Thor to return.

-0-

Clint must have fallen asleep, sitting next to the fire in the dark like that because when he opened his eyes Loki was bent over him, considering. “These dreams,” he murmured. “They're a little different each time.”

“Do you remember them when you wake up?” Clint asked, scooting himself to one side before sitting up.

“Vividly,” Loki said. “But so it has been since I was a child. My dreams have always been most clear.”

“Huh,” Clint said, and his body was asleep on an alien world covered in snow under strange stars. He suddenly felt the whole weight of his choice as if it was physically pressing against his chest and he found his hand rubbing over his heart again, like it had several times that day. “Fuck, I'm insane,” he muttered, looking away from Loki.

Loki only snorted. “Well, if my own mind tells me it is so, it must be true.”

Clint's mouth twisted and he looked back. “What the fuck does it mean to say someone has heart, anyway? Why did you say that, just before you stole my mind away from me?”

Loki stared at him, brow raised and almost pity in his eyes. “What does it matter?”

“What did it mean?” Clint demanded, rising up on his knees and leaning forward. “I mean, god knows if this wasn't all my dreams, I'm pretty sure those words would have a staring role in my nightmares so just tell me why you said it.”

Loki tilted his head, eyes narrow. “I suppose it's good to know I insist to myself you must dream of me.”

“You stole my fucking mind, my agency, my ability to be myself. Of course I would have nightmares about you every fucking night for the rest of my life,” Clint said, shaking his head. “Is it just an Asgardian turn of phrase? Something everyone says.”

“It's a compliment,” Loki said.

Clint stared. “You're joking. That's a terrible—”

“Asgard values warriors,” Loki said, not looking at Clint. “Going with your heart, staying true to yourself, standing by your fellows and fighting when the mood or need takes you. Heart. There is no higher compliment.”

“So what, you went after me because you liked me?” Clint asked. “Or because I pissed you off since you obviously find yourself undervalued by Asgard's standards?” He shook his head, crossing his ankles and bringing his knees up to his chest. “You are such a fucking piece of work.”

Loki's eyes flashed when he looked back. There was a new and ugly bruise at his throat. It didn't look like anyone had tried to strangle him, but something heavy must have hit him there and Clint could imagine that it made breathing hard.

“Maybe,” Loki said. “You fight, you don't give up or stop. You suffer and yet keep laughing. You are not like an Asgardian warrior and yet there is an ineffable quality in which your heart controls you.” He stopped, Clint looking at him in angry confusion. “You're warm.”

“I don't—”

“You're like Thor in some ways,” Loki continued. “And yet, as I said, unlike other Asgardian warriors. You hold yourself far more aloof, have more jagged bits inside you, but it doesn't change how you behave.”

Clint froze, uncertain if he was comfortable with being compared to Thor at all.

“I'm not—”

“You're both so warm,” Loki sighed, looking away. “And I'm always so cold.”

Clint's eyes went to the bruise on his throat again, wondering if he was exhausted, and that's why he was still talking. Even when Loki thought he was only talking to himself, he still kept his secrets guarded closely to his chest.

“You don't have to be cold,” he said, wondering if _cold_ meant _lonely._

But Loki let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “How could I not be cold when I am a frost giant?”

“What?” Clint asked. “A—”

“Frost giant,” Loki said and his eyes were cold. “A foundling, a child left to die by his own people on a dark world, taken in by the victorious conquer and displayed in his palace like any other trophy.”

“But you,” Clint said and when Loki reached out and touched the side of his face, Clint shivered at how cold his hand was. “You look—” but Loki's skin had turned blue, his eyes red, and intricate designs appeared on his skin. Clint stared, open mouthed. “Well, holy shit.”

“Who could accept this in Asgard?” Loki said. “When the Jotun are simply a crushed people, left powerless under their boots? I could never rule Asgard, they would never let me.”

“Wait,” Clint frowned. “Jotun?”

“Frost giants, the Jotun of Jotunheim,” Loki said with a sardonic twist of his mouth. “Who once invaded Earth in an attempt to rule it until Asgard pushed them back and out into the darkness of their own world.”

“Wait,” Clint managed, raising a hand and Loki was still sitting too close. “Wait, but you tried to destroy Jotunheim—”

Loki sneered at him. “Yes, I did.”

“You tried to destroy the world of your own _people_?” Clint asked.

“What people are mine?” Loki snarled, rising to his feet and turning away. “I may be Jotun by blood, raised in Asgard, and cast out, unwanted from both realms. My father had left me to die when Odin bathed himself in Jotun blood and took one lost child home as if that would wipe any of it away. And then,” he waved a hand. “What could I do right as prince of Asgard? As its king? I meant to destroy the monsters that even Thor loathed, earning my place and their respect but even then that was useless. So why not conquer myself a new world?” and he turned abruptly around to look at Clint, who sat gaping at him.

“You are so fucked up,” Clint said, almost marveling. “I had no idea how fucked up you actually are,” and Loki barked out another laugh.

“I need no illusion to tell me I am mad,” he said and Clint covered his mouth with one hand, rubbing it as he stared at Loki, who had never replaced the illusion of his own skin.

Loki must have been annoyed because the next month Clint was pushed out of the dream and awake, finding himself curled up against Natasha's side, the fire still between them and Amora, who was looking up as Thor walked into the camp.

“Anything?” she asked, a brow perfectly arched and something about her facial expression reminded Clint all at once of Loki.

“There's a settlement,” Thor said. “Not too far from here. It looks mostly like smugglers and other drifters, hiding on the edge of space.”

“Any of them see Loki?” Natasha asked.

“I didn't ask yet,” Thor said. “If we make good time, we will be there tomorrow, and we can plan our steps from there.”

Clint nodded, letting Natasha fold him into the tent they were to share, disoriented from the dream still. “Loki is Jotun,” he whispered, as she spread a fur over them. “He told me, he was taken from Jotunheim as a child.”

Natasha paused beside him. “Didn't Thor just say he tried to destroy that whole world?”

“Yeah,” Clint said and they both fell silent, the heavy weight of those words between them. “How much exactly do you think someone has to hate themselves for that?”

“You can still turn back,” Natasha said, cautiously.

“No,” Clint said, shaking his head even though she couldn't see it and she curled up next to him under the furs, the familiar weight of her comforting in a strange alien world. “I just can't believe it is all.”

“I imagine not wanting to believe it,” Natasha murmured, and that night Clint left the hearing aids in like Thor had insisted he could from the beginning. All night he heard the crackle of the fire and the quiet sounds of Amora and Thor talking, but he didn't again dream of Loki.

 


End file.
